Shallow Grave-J Collins 3 (21 page)

e Road Kill Café.

I slid into the last booth in the back and tossed my cigarettes on the table, just so he knew he wasn’t sitting in the nonsmoking section.

Misty waddled over with a pot of sludge, a Road Kill specialty. I’d already set my cup at the edge of the table.

She didn’t bring a menu since I always ate the same thing.

“Hey, Julie. How’s it going?”

“Good.”

“Your partner joining you today?”

“No. Sheriff Richards is. Might as well pour him a cup while you’re here.”

Misty peered at me, debating on questioning me 235

further. She probably wanted to ask why the sexy Mexican guy hadn’t been in with me recently. Martinez was a hard man to forget. I fumbled with my cigarettes. Th e

situation with Martinez was making me crazy.

“I’ll wait ’til the sheriff gets here before I put your order in.”

Th

e place was surprisingly quiet for Saturday morning. A couple of ranchers sat at the counter, chrome stools separating them as they scoured
Th
e Rapid City

Journal
.

A tinny bell above the door jangled. Th

e sheriff

strode over in civilian clothes: jeans, a green and black plaid western shirt with pearl snap buttons, scuff ed cowboy boots, black Stetson, and a black Carhartt coat. I’d bet my tips from last night he had his gun on beneath that beat-up coat.

He folded his large frame into the booth, bumping my knees. I scooted closer to the wall to give him more room. He scowled at my cigarette but said nothing as he removed his hat and set it on the seat beside him.

“Th

is mine?” He pointed at the coff ee.

“Yep.”

Misty appeared. “You guys want me to put your orders in now?”

Th

e sheriff was a regular so he didn’t need a menu either. He nodded. Misty’s ample hips swayed as she 236

walked away, rattling the silverware on the tables.

“So, what’s up?” I didn’t bother with the, weather’s-been-nice-but-we-need-the-moisture chitchat.

“I need to ask you a favor.”

My back snapped straight. Th

e last favor requested

of me involved working in a joint with naked women.

“Is this an offi

cial favor?”

“Yeah.”

“Th

at mean I’m getting paid?”

He lifted his mug. “Depends on if you give law enforcement a discounted rate.” He grimaced at the taste of the coff ee. “We don’t have extra money in the budget this time of year.”

“I’m listening.”

“We got an ID on those bones you found.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Wow. Th

at was like
CSI
fast.”

“I called in a couple of favors. Mostly the reason they came up with a match so promptly is because they had dental records on fi le.”

“Who?”

He sighed. “A young Indian woman. Missing for fi ve years. She was from White Plain.”

I repeated, “Who?”

“Maria Dove.”

Th

e coff ee in my stomach churned into acid. “Shit.”

His brown eyes narrowed. “You know her?”

237

“No. But there is a connection I’ll share after you tell me why you need my help.”

“Th

e case is fi ve years old. Maria’s mother won’t care, because to her, it’s a new case. If I don’t have someone looking into it, she’s gonna start screaming racial discrimination.”

“And because I basically did the same thing with Ben’s case you think I’m the logical candidate to deal with her?”

“Listen—”

“You want me to share my crappy experiences in trying and failing to fi nd answers about who murdered my brother?”

Th

e fl at, cool cop’s eyes stared back at me. “Back off , Collins. Don’t go jumping to conclusions. Yes, I asked you partially because you might have better luck explaining she might
never
get answers. Th at’s not the reason

I’m asking for your help.”

“Th

en why are you asking me?”

“Right now I don’t have the extra manpower to handle the stuff that happens in my county on a daily basis, say nothing of investing taxpayers’ money to investigate a cold case.” He sipped his coff ee. “You are a good investigator. Better than anyone on my payroll right now.”

His comment, while fl attering, didn’t ease my sense of unease. “And?”

238

“And, although you are tough as nails, you’ve developed a soft spot for situations like this. It’ll bug you enough you won’t stop until you fi gure out what happened.”

“Because she’s Indian?”

“No. Because you found her remains.” He braced his elbows on the table. “I know you, Collins. You’ll keep poking around whether I want you to or not. I’m off ering a little compensation for the time you’ll spend.”

I smiled meanly. “How little compensation we talking here, sheriff ?”

His answering smile was just as ornery. “A pittance.”

“I’m used to it, since that describes my salary for the three years I worked for you.”

“I haven’t had a pay hike in fi ve years, so you’ll get no sympathy from me.”

“Why do you keep doing it? Is it the gun? Th e title?

Th

e snappy, hip uniform?”

“Been asking myself the same question lately.” He spun circles with his spoon. “Too stupid to quit, I guess.

It’s all I know how to do. Hell, it’s all I’ve ever
wanted
to do.”

Compliments weren’t my forte, but if he could toss one out, so could I. “Tom. You’re a great cop. Money isn’t everything.”

“Tell that to Bernice.”

“Your wife been ragging on you about it?”

239

“Some. Her best friend just got back from Hawaii.

She’s been dropping some heavy duty hints she’d like to go.”

“So take her.”

“Can’t do that on a cop’s salary.”

I mock whispered, “Th

at’s why there’s Visa.”

His brows knit above his tiny crooked nose. “Even if I did charge a couple of tickets, when would I have time to go? We’re short-staff ed, I’m training a rookie—”

“Th

e Bear Butte County Sheriff ’s Department will survive fi ne without you for one lousy week. How long has it been since you took a vacation? Two, three years?

You need a break as much as Bernice.”

“Probably.”

“Defi nitely. Schedule the time off and set it up. It’ll shock the hell out of her. Plus, Bernice will think it’s romantic.”

Th

e sheriff looked at me strangely.

“What?”

“Since when do you give a crap about romance, Collins?”

Heat fl ashed in my cheeks. Dammit. Since I didn’t have any in my life. “We’re talking about you, not me.”

Misty brought our food. She had a knack for impeccable timing.

We ate quickly and got down to business.

240

“Did you bring a copy of the fi le?”

“No. Damn copier jammed again. I’ll fax the info to you as soon as I get back to the offi

ce.”

“Why don’t you give me a rundown?”

He angled back, buffi

ng his hand over his nearly

bald pate. “Late spring fi ve years ago, Maria Dove disappeared. Clothing and personal aff ects were gone from her apartment. Rumor was she’d been talking about taking off for greener pastures, so at fi rst no one seemed too concerned.”

“Except for the Dove family,” I said.

“Exactly. Maria’s mother swore her daughter wouldn’t just pack up without saying good-bye, or without telling them where she was going. Hard to prove foul play without a body, so she’s been listed as missing.”

“Seems kind of morbid Maria’s family would have her dental records on fi le with the state, just in case.”

“Not when you consider some Indian shaman told the family a couple of months after Maria disappeared that she was dead.”

A family adhering to traditional Native ways wouldn’t question the vision of a Lakota Holy man.

“Th

ey hoped if an unidentifi ed body turned up—

which as we both know is a rarity in South Dakota—it’d help the investigators process it faster and give them the positive ID. I drove out to the Dove’s yesterday.”

241

“What was their reaction?”

“It’s just Sharon now. Her husband Clem died a year after Maria disappeared. Sharon was relieved at fi rst, then angry.” His gaze cut into me. “You gonna tell me about the connection?”

“I uncovered a lead on Ben’s case in the last week.”

As dispassionately as possible, I relayed the visit from Abita and Jericho. What I’d learned from Darrell Pretty Horses. I left out the assault portion of my visit to Roland Hawk, but I connected the dots to him and Marlon Blue Legs.

Sheriff Richards’ mouth was a hard line. “Burns my ass, Collins, that no one came forward with this information. I won’t pretend to understand the Sihasapa tribe’s habit of keeping to themselves, but we might’ve been able to solve your brother’s murder.”

“I will solve it.” I smashed my cigarette in the ashtray. “You, or any of the other investigators really didn’t have this information?”

“No. I would have told you.”

Our eyes met. “Don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not.”

He studied me so intently I wondered if I had egg on my face. “What?” I said with annoyance.

“Roland Hawk is on the list of suspects who murdered Maria Dove.”

242

My blood ran cold. “You gotta be shitting me.”

“Nope. According to Sharon Dove, fi ve and a half years ago, Maria tried to stop Roland from beating on Bonita, and Maria ended up on the receiving end of Hawk’s fi sts. She called the tribal police and had him arrested. Unlike Bonita, Maria wouldn’t drop the charges.

Roland did six months in jail on a domestic charge. Sharon Dove swears he threatened to make Maria pay for humiliating him.”

“Wasn’t he under suspicion after Maria disappeared?”

“Some. But at the time Bonita swore Maria bragged that she had a new boyfriend. Bonita says they took off together before Roland was released from jail.”

I frowned. “Who was Maria Dove seeing?”

He drained his coff ee. “Sharon didn’t know. She claims Bonita made up the story about the mysterious boyfriend to cover for Roland.” He sighed. “It’s a pretty screwed up situation. I ain’t expecting miracles on a cold case. Just fi nd out what you can. No rush on this.”

I already had plenty on my proverbial plate. “Who else was on the list of suspects?”

“Th

e mysterious boyfriend. Bonita Dove. Th

at’s

about it.”

“Will Sharon Dove talk to me? I’m not exactly Miss Popularity on the White Plain Reservation.”

“Sharon is good people. She’ll talk to you, Julie.

243

Maria didn’t have many friends, so that list is short.”

Good, because chasing down fi ve-year old employment records would suck. “Where’d she work?”

“Some restaurant in Rapid City. Th

ere is one other

name you should know that wasn’t on the initial list.”

“Who?”

“William Colhoff . Sound familiar?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. Why?”

“He’s a registered sex off ender in our little county.

He’s also June Everett’s cousin.”

My gaze whipped back to his.

“Th

at’s what I thought. Interesting, the remains of a pretty young girl happened to show up on his cousin’s piece of land, isn’t it?”

I’d have said creepy, not interesting. “I’ll check him out. Don’t think I’ll pay him a personal visit, though.”

“Good plan.”

Misty swung by for a refi ll. I was coff eed out; my bladder was protesting. Th

e sheriff and I were adrift in

our own thoughts, but the silence wasn’t stifl ing.

After a time he said, “Does your father know about Jericho?”

“No.”

“Don’t you think you oughta tell him?”

“Not my business to tell him. Probably piss him off more than anything.”

244

“Maybe not.” He watched me with pensive eyes.

“Why don’t you spend any time with his and Trish’s kids?”

I hadn’t expected that question. Th

en again, Sheriff

Richards didn’t reckon any topic was taboo. “Because even though we share the same blood, we don’t share the same father.”

“What’s that mean?

“Trish would never let him beat on DJ and Brittney the way he did on me. I don’t resent them; I resent
him
.”

“You telling me you’d like them better if they were being abused? You’d stand by and let it happen?”

“No. But since it’s not happening, it’s a moot point.”

He wiggled his hat on his head; his ears stuck out like Yoda’s. “You might not need them, but they might need you in the same way you needed Ben, Julie. Th ink

about it, okay?”

I couldn’t mouth platitudes.

“Talk over the case with your partner and let me know if he has any problems. Especially when he sees the lousy pay rate.”

“Will do.”

“Kevin doin’ all right since his girlfriend died?”

“He takes it day by day. Keeping busy maintains his sanity.”

“I know how that goes. You two gonna quit playin’

around one of these days and make it offi

cial?”

245

My stomach tumbled my biscuits and gravy into a thick mass heavy as wallpaper paste. “Make what offi cial?”

Th

e bench seat squeaked as he scooted from the booth. “For a smart woman, Collins, sometimes you are one dim bulb.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“Keep telling yourself that. You might start to believe it.” He snagged the bill and ambled to the register.

Guess the all powerful Oz hadn’t heard I was the old lady of an outlaw biker.

For the fi rst time I was glad it wasn’t common knowledge.

246

Abita finally called. She and Jericho were coming over.

Despite a pounding headache from my conversation with the sheriff , and the lingering eff ects from my run-in with Roland, I smiled when Jericho burst through my front door.

“Guess what?”